Tales of a Sixth Grade Teacher

I haven't been blogging a lot lately. I mostly started this blog so that people could view pictures and read about my day-to-day happenings while I was in England. Now that I'm back I don't have much to blog about on a daily basis. I would like to change that though. I think I'll start sharing some of the funny stories from school. I blogged on Facebook about some last week and people actually wanted more. Here's the first one for this week:
On Friday my students have the opportunity to earn extra recess on Fridays. This is dependent on their behavior throughout the week. This last Friday my students earned their extra recess. We went outside. It was so nice! Most the students are complaining..."It's too cold." It was like 50 or 60 something. :) Heat wave for me this time of year. Anyways, usually I stand around with some girls and we talk about girly things (hair, makeup, clothes, etc.) and the boys play football on the field. I was feeling a bit more confident in my athletic skills (Some of you know that I lack a lot of athletic skills. I'm not a sissy. I just prefer that balls don't fly past my head.) I decided to play tetherball with one of my kids. Once all the kids saw me playing tetherball, suddenly EVERYONE lined up to play against me. I understand I'm the teacher and everyone wants their chance to "slaughter" the teacher at tetherball. The student "served" the ball. I'm not sure what the technical terms for tetherball would be, but you get the point. I hit it back. I was feeling a bit confident. That didn't last for long. She smacks the ball and quickly the ball comes around the pole to my side. At this point everything seems to go in slow motion. I reach my hand out to make a fist to sock the ball back, but my hand doesn't make a fist before the ball suddenly hits my vulnerable thumb, waving in the wind. "I'm in pain, don't cry or faint. This could be bad if I fall down on the hard concrete tetherball court. There isn't any other teachers on the playground. Will my kids have enough sense to get the walkie-talkie off of me to call the nurse?" I was fine. I didn't cry or faint, but the nurse thought that my finger was broken. The poor student felt so bad. I assured her that it certainly wasn't her fault. Thankfully, I wore a splint on it all weekend and had the nurse check it today. It's not broken, just sprained or jammed. :) The nurse suggested that I continue to wear the splint. The kids have had a great time making fun of my poor finger.